


Advanced Book (And Heart) Stealing

by Attila



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-30
Updated: 2016-08-30
Packaged: 2018-08-11 22:30:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7910080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Attila/pseuds/Attila
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first time Allura checks out a book Kima needs for her thesis is an accident. The second, not so much.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Advanced Book (And Heart) Stealing

Allura blows into her apartment, throwing her backpack on the couch, slamming the door, and glaring at Drake, who’s sitting comfortably on the armchair, bent over his laptop.

“Bad meeting?” he says mildly, not looking up.

“I hate my thesis,” she says viciously.

“No, you don’t,” he says. “I’ve never met someone as into grad school as you are. It’s terrifying, honestly. You’re _ahead_ on your thesis.”

“I’m not anymore,” she says. “That’s the problem.”

He looks up, then, startled. “God. What happened?”

“Apparently I need about a million more sources, and I need them _right now_ , or I can’t possibly continue in the direction I’m going,” she says, sighing and slumping onto the couch. “Drake, it was a nightmare. I’m never going to get my degree.”

“Of course you are,” he says patiently. “Allura, everyone’s thesis is a disaster.”

“Yours isn’t,” she mutters.

“Now you’re just being petulant,” he says, grinning. “Yesterday, my thesis adviser described my writing as ‘juvenile.’ You really want to get into a ‘who’s life is more fucked’ contest right now?”

She laughs. “Okay, okay, I get it.” She brushes a few strands of hair that have escaped from her braids out of her face and stands. “I have to go to the library, apparently. Need me to pick up anything for you?”

He shrugs. “Dinner?”

“Takeout _again_?” she says, groaning.

“It’s that or cup ramen, and after I graduated college, I promised myself never again.”

“When I was little, I used to think higher education was _glamorous_ ,” Allura says, picking up her bag again. “It was going to be all gothic libraries with high, vaulted ceilings and old, smelly books with yellowing pages, and tall towers where people talked seriously about the meaning of life.”

Drake eyes her. “You’re an engineer. What do you want with old, smelly books with yellowing pages? That’s some humanities bullshit right there.”

She throws a cushion from the couch at him. “It’s an _aesthetic_.”

“Well, go have fun in our _modern_ , _classy_ library,” Drake says. “And don’t get so caught up in research that you miss closing time for the takeout places. I’m sick of Domino’s.”

“Hey, be grateful for Domino’s,” she says. “Without a twenty-four hour place around here, we’d probably have starved by now.”

“That’s not true,” he says. “There’s a 7/11 just down the block.”

“What about your cup ramen vow?”

He grins. “No worries. They sell turkey jerky. And beer.”

“Ugh,” she says. “I’ll pick up dinner from the Thai place. And _wine_.”

“So prim and proper,” he teases, and she sticks out her tongue at him as she opens the door again, slipping her keys into her pocket.

“Mature!” he yells at her as she leaves, letting the door slam behind her again, zipping her jacket up against autumn chill and shivering. It’s a long walk to the library.

 

 

_Two weeks later_

It’s late afternoon and she’s curled up in her favorite spot in the library, taking notes on one of her new million or so sources, when there’s a loud _thud_ , and she jumps and looks up to see a very short girl glaring at her, with her hands slammed on the desk.

“Can I help you?” Allura says.

“It’s _you_ ,” the girl says. “You’re the one who did it!”

“I—what?” Allura says. “I didn’t do anything!”

“You _checked out my book_ ,” the girl says, in the tone of voice most people would reserve for murder accusations.

Allura looks down at the book she’s reading. “What, this?”

“Yes!” the girl says. “That! I need it for my thesis, and you stole it!”

“I did not!” Allura says, sitting up straight. “I checked it out first, fair and square. And besides, I need it for my thesis too.”

“You do not,” the girl says dismissively. “You’re not in the history department. I’d remember you.”

“No, I’m not—”

“And if you’re not a history student, you don’t need it,” she says firmly. “And I do. So return it so I can check it out.”

“No!” Allura says, shocked. “I might not be in history, but that doesn’t mean I don’t need it. And I do, so you can just wait your turn.”

“ _Look_ —” the girl starts, but that’s about when they get kicked out of the library for excessive noise and general bad vibes (the library assistant might be a bit stoned, Allura isn’t sure).

“Well, thanks,” Allura says, once they’re standing on the library steps, their breath misting in the cold air. “I was working, you know.”

“On my book,” the girl says, apparently unwilling to let this go.

“No!” Allura snaps. “On _my_ book, which according to my _fucking_ advisor, I absolutely have to have, or my thesis is complete and utter garbage!”

The girl blinks at her, and then smiles abruptly. Allura feels her breath catch in her throat, and all of a sudden, her cheeks feel oddly warm, even though it must be forty degrees out.

“Funny,” the girl says. “That’s pretty much what mine said too.”

“Nice bunch of professors at this school, huh?” Allura says.

“Well, I might be reading between the lines a bit,” the girl says. “I’ve been maybe a little stressed lately.”

“Tell me about it,” Allura says with a sigh, thinking of her criminally underused kitchen, criminally overused coffee maker, and bed piled high with books and notes. “I’d like to go back in time to when I was applying for grad schools and punch myself in the face.”

The girl snorts. “Yeah, I know that feeling.” She sticks her hands deep into her pockets and frowns at Allura. “Look, I’m sorry for yelling at you and getting us both kicked out of the library. Can I buy you a cup of coffee to apologize and bribe you into negotiating custody of the book? I really do need it.”

Allura smiles reluctantly. “Throw in a bagel, and you’ve got yourself a deal.”

“I could do a bagel,” the girl says, nodding decisively. She sticks out a hand. “Kima Vord. Military history.”

“Allura Vysoren,” she says, shaking. “Mechanical engineering.”

“Oh,” Kima says. “Yeah, that makes sense. Old weapons-building, huh? That’s got to be the only book in the entire library that we could both possibly want.”

“Told you I needed it,” Allura says.

Kima rolls her eyes. “Yeah, yeah. I said I was sorry, didn’t I? Come on, the coffee shop’s this way.” She frowns as Allura hefts her bag up onto her back. “Do you need any help with that?”

“You’re not getting the book that way,” Allura says. “I’m not stupid.”

“Right, you’ve seen through my cunning plot of making sure you don’t break your back trying to carry that around,” Kima says. “That’s a lot of books. I didn’t know science majors even knew how to read.”

“Funny,” Allura says dryly.

“Sorry, did I sound like I was joking?”

“No, I was making a clever inference based on the fact that I’m holding this book hostage and you may never see it again.”

“I’m a funny person. Jokes are my life.”

“I knew you’d see it my way,” Allura says smugly, and Kima laughs.

 

 

_Five days later_

“Oh, no,” Drake says when she comes in the door, as he stands over the stove and pokes uncertainly at a pan of food. “What did hot history girl do this time?”

Allura feels her face go hot and knows she must be red as a tomato, pale as she usually is. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she says.

“You’ve got hot history girl look on your face,” he says. “It’s embarrassing, honestly, how obvious it is when you’ve seen her.”

“Her name is _Kima_ ,” Allura says.

“Sure,” Drake says. “Hot Kima, okay. What happened?”

Allura covers her face with her hands. “We just met by the Greek food cart on 27th so I could lend her that book,” she says. “That’s _all_.”

“If that really is all, and you’re this hot and bothered about it, that’s even more embarrassing,” he says, sounding impressed.

“Shut _up_ ,” Allura says. “I don’t know why we’re friends.”

“Because I actually try to cook real food sometimes,” he says. “Unlike you, you disaster.”

Allura slumps against the wall. “I am a disaster.”

He looks up. “That bad? I thought you just gave her a book and that was absolutely all that happened.”

She waves a hand in the air awkwardly. “Then we might’ve eaten lunch together. Just because, you know, we were already there.”

“Sure, just because. What did you do, pour your juice on her?”

“No! Well, yes.”

Drake stares at her in horror. “You’re joking.”

“It was an accident!” Allura says. “And also, in other news, I will never be leaving this apartment again.”

“Yeah, that’s fair. Was she pissed?”

“She was actually really nice about it,” Allura says glumly. “Which just made me feel worse.”

“Naturally,” he says. “What _happened_?”

“She made me laugh?” Allura says. “And my elbow sort of slipped, and—”

“Wow,” Drake says. “You’ve never been klutzy before.”

“Oh, shut up,” she says, straightening up and going into their living room to collapse onto the couch, face-first.

“No, hey, it’s kind of cute,” he says, following her. “I’ve never seen you this stupid over someone before. And if she doesn’t mind that you spilled juice on her—”

“Then she’s probably just a very nice person who never wants to see me again,” Allura says firmly, though her voice is a little muffled by the couch cushions. “And even if she _did_ , I don’t know when she’s going to. I don’t get that book back for weeks.”

“Don’t you have her number?”

“I can’t just _text_ her, just like that,” Allura says, turning her head to the side so she can stare at him in horror. “That would be so obvious!”

“Yeah, because everything you’ve been doing until now, that’s so subtle,” Drake says.

“Shut up.”

“No, seriously, you’ve clearly got to spend some more time with this girl,” he says. “This is getting ridiculous. I need you to start dating her.”

“Well, I’d _like_ to,” she says, “but I have no idea how to do that.”

 

 

_Three days later_

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Kima says.

Allura hides her grin in the book she’s reading and looks up slowly. “Oh, Kima!” she says. “Hi.”

“Don’t ‘hi’ me,” Kima says. “What the hell are you reading?”

“Oh, this?” Allura says, as innocently as she dares. “I got it from the library.”

“I know you did,” Kima says, but she’s grinning widely, and Allura smiles back. “I am, in fact, _completely positive_ that you did that. What I want to know is, _why_? You told me all about your thesis, and there is no way you need that for it. Old weapons-building, sure. Old _military strategy_? Go fuck yourself.”

“Ouch,” Allura says. “I never said I needed it for my thesis. I don’t need it for my thesis. I just thought it would be fun to read something different. Take a break, you know?”

“Then read Star Wars Extended Universe novels like the rest of us,” Kima says. “Not books that I need for _my_ thesis!”

“Oh, do you need this?”

“You’re a bitch, Vysoren,” Kima says cheerfully. “Come on.” She grabs Allura’s arm and hauls her to her feet bodily, until she’s standing next to the tree by the side of the library she was sitting under. “I buy you coffee and a bagel and you give me that book, right?”

“I don’t know,” Allura says. “It’s kind of interesting.”

“Go back to undergrad and get a history degree,” Kima says unsympathetically. “Or, hell, read one of the hundreds of books in this library that have nothing to do with what I’m studying. I promise to even help you run from the other history grad students. Some of them can be vicious fucks, honestly, and I’d hate to see them pull out your pretty hair.”

Allura’s hand goes to hair unbidden. “You think my hair is pretty?”

“Sure,” Kima says. “Obviously. You going to let me bribe you into giving me that book, or what?”

“Oh,” Allura says. “I mean, I guess if you really need it.”

“Oh, you guess, huh,” Kima says. “You’re a fucking menace. You’re lucky you’re cute.”

“Oh,” Allura says faintly, fixing her eyes on a spot that definitely isn’t Kima as she throws her things into her bag. “Uh, thanks?”

“For what, the coffee and bagel?” Kima says. “Don’t worry, I’m definitely getting something out of that.”

“Yes,” Allura says. “Yes, that is exactly what I meant.”

 

 

_Later that day_

“She thinks I’m cute and that my hair is pretty!” Allura sings out as she breezes into the apartment. “ _And_ she volunteers at the LGBT clinic downtown!”

“Well, you’re going to be useless all night,” Drake says.

“I brought Chinese food and gin to celebrate,” Allura says cheerfully.

“So we’re both going to be useless all night,” Drake says, closing his laptop. “Okay, works for me.”

“She thinks I’m _cute_!” Allura says, throwing her backpack to the side and kicking off her shoes. “Drake, I could _sing_!”

“Uh-huh,” Drake says. “Tell me, did you already break into the gin?”

“Nope!” Allura says. “I’m just _happy_.”

“Yeah, okay, maybe I _don’t_ want the two of you to go out.”

“ _Caaaaaaaan_ you feel the _looooove_ tonight,” Allura warbles, half just to fuck with him as she grabs forks and soda from the kitchen.

“This is going to be _unbearable_ ,” Drake says sadly.

 

 

_One week later_

“I can’t believe it!” Allura snaps into her phone. “How can _all three_ copies of that book be checked out from the library? I’m going to have to shake down the engineering department and find out who decided to fuck with me.”

Drake makes soothing sounds on the other end of the line. “Is it possible that they could just be out?”

“All three of them? Right when I go to the library? They were all there when I checked online yesterday. I don’t know what’s going on, but I’m very upset about it.”

“Maybe talk to your thesis adviser before you go on a rampage in through the engineering department?” Drake says. “Or one of the librarians.”

“Yeah, that’ll be helpful,” Allura starts to say, and then she trails off, staring. “Drake, I’m going to have to call you back.”

“What? Allura—”

She hangs up on him and marches across the street, barely bothering to look back and forth to make sure there are no cars coming or police officers to complain about her incredibly blatant jaywalking. “Are you _serious_?” she says as she comes to a stop in front of the coffee shop.

Kima looks up from where she’s leaning insouciantly on the window and reading a book. _Allura’s_ book, in point of fact. “Oh, hey, Allie,” she says casually, grinning.

“Allie?” Allura says. “No, not the point. What are you doing with that?”

“With what?” Kima says, grinning even more broadly now.

“With _that book_ ,” Allura says. “My book! That I told you I had to check out!”

“Oh, was that _this_ book?” Kima says.

“Did you check out all three?” Allura says.

“Nah, but I tried to,” Kima says. “The librarian wouldn’t let me, so I got a couple of my friends to go in and check out the others. I thought we could see how you liked it. Kind of annoying, isn’t it?”

Annoying isn’t the word Allura would use. Elated, more like. She sighs, trying to look put-upon instead of completely and utterly delighted. “So I buy you a coffee and a bagel and you give me that, right? That’s the deal?”

Kima taps her chin thoughtfully. “No, I don’t think so.”

“ _No_?” Allura says. “But—but that’s what _I_ got.”

“Just because you can’t hold out for something better doesn’t mean I can’t,” Kima says, grinning smugly. “I think I can get better than coffee and a bagel. How badly do you need this book?”

“You know how badly I need it,” Allura says, glaring at her. “I told you! And now I’m definitely wishing I hadn’t, you—you—extortionist!”

“Uh-huh,” Kima says. “So, I’m thinking I can probably get dinner out of you. What do you think?”

Allura opens her mouth, and then she closes it again. “Dinner?” she says. She’s probably blushing, damnit.

“Yeah,” Kima says. “What do you say, want to buy me some real food?”

“Um,” Allura says. “Yes. Yes, I do.”

 

 

_Several hours later_

10:57 PM  
To: Drake Thunderbrand  
I’m definitely not coming home tonight.

10:58 PM  
From: Drake Thunderbrand  
Oh thank god

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to acommonrose/zornslemon for helping come up with this title (and thereby making sure the title was not from Arthur, which was the winning suggestion for a while there. Her suggestion, fyi) and also editing it for realistic grad school-ness.
> 
> Feel free to leave a comment or come say hi on my [tumblr](http://www.attilarrific.tumblr.com)!


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